


The Dance

by Redwit



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: 1940, F/M, Flowers, Fluff, M/M, Magic, Reunion, Romance, Siblings, buttons, dance, implied sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-11-01 17:58:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10927059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redwit/pseuds/Redwit
Summary: As part of the 1st anniversary of Gaea's defeat, Camp Jupiter hosts a reunion.  Nico and Hazel are especially looking forward the dance.Lou Ellen manages a complicated fix after initial disappointment.Nico gets to unbutton Will’s shirt.





	The Dance

**Author's Note:**

> This ended up wordy and quaint. I might rework some of it later. But I do love the idea of Nico and Hazel sometimes getting stuck as they negotiate 'modern day'.

Hazel admired the little flowers while Nico buttoned the last couple pearl buttons she couldn’t reach on the back of her dress. “Frank never asked what colour I was wearing, you know.” Hazel’s elegant brow furrowed for a moment. 

Nico smiled at his sister over her shoulder in the mirror as he tied her sash. “Well, you’re not wearing colour….” he teased gently. The white diaphanous fabric glowed against Hazel’s skin. Any flower would go. 

“I just told the florist something blue” Nico went on. “For Will’s eyes,” he added unnecessarily.

Hazel’s reflection smiled back at her brother. She turned to face him and they eyed each other. 

“Beautiful,” Nico concluded as Hazel gave a little twirl. “Frank is a lucky man.”

“And Will…” Hazel stood on tiptoe to kiss Nico’s cheek. “Dapper boy,” she drawled, reaching up to fix a short length of twisted suspender over Nico’s right shoulder. She fingered the open top button of the perfectly pressed collarless shirt. 

“Imagine going out without a tie. Our mothers would die….” 

Nico grinned and knocked his fedora to a jaunty angle. “I know! She’d say, ‘Nikolaos, everyone will think you are a peasant…’” He put on an exaggerated pleading Italian accent and Hazel giggled. 

“But,” Nico went on more seriously, “I remember her getting ready for dances. She expected a man to shine his shoes, tilt his hat, and bring her flowers….. Check…. Check… and ….Check.” 

“A boutonniere,” Hazel said it the proper way. Her French words always came out sounding French. She handed over the tiny posy. “Here…” 

“It will be so weird to see Will not in jeans and a t-shirt.” By weird, Nico meant hot. He hated to admit even to himself how excited he’d gotten imagining pinning the flower cluster above a crisp breast pocket. He hadn’t gone so far as to dream of a suit jacket, or even a vest. But something with buttons he could undo, later, one at a time…

Hazel smiled again, looking back in the mirror to primp her hair. 

“I’m picturing Frank in khakis and plaid. I mean, I’m pretty sure there will be no surprises there. But, my first corsage!” Hazel let herself squeal a little bit. “You keep it forever, you know, dried, in a drawer with your unmentionables…”

Nico feigned shock, raising his eyebrows. He mimicked his sister’s soft drawl, “Honey! You just mentioned your …unmentionables…..” 

Hazel swatted him playfully. 

In his normal voice, Nico continued, but dryly, “Very romantic picture: dried rose petals amidst all the cotton boyshorts and sports bras....”

Hazel smacked his chest a little harder. “Hey, boy, I am a warrior, don’t you forget it!”

Nico grabbed her hands and held her at arms length. “Tonight, everyone will forget. Especially Frank. Ready?”

“Ready.”

They left Hazel’s barracks arm in arm, with happy smiles. Nico’s right hand cradled the little blue flowers. 

Maybe it was the stares. Maybe it was the decided lack of gauzy fabric, sashes, and fedoras on the other campers trooping to the party, but by the time the siblings-of-the-past reached the pavilion, their smiles had faltered. Hazel clutched Nico’s hand and pulled him to a standstill in the shadows before they got to the entrance.

“We got it wrong, didn’t we Nico…. Completely fucking wrong….” Hazel’s voice was quiet but Nico heard everything in it: embarrassment, disappointment. He tried to be reassuring, “No, wait, just wait… I’m sure….” Hazel peered into Nico’s face as his voice trailed off. She watched him grow pale and then flush with emotion. She followed his gaze.

Will and a few of his sisters ambled in their direction but hadn’t seen them yet. Hazel winced as Nico’s hand crushed her fingers. Will looked gorgeous as ever – blond hair gleaming in the leaning late evening sun, tall and lanky. As he turned his head and saw them standing there, the light caught his eyes and they glowed like blue beach glass. He grinned his surprise and pleasure, and hastened his pace towards them. Hazel sensed Nico’s fury swirl like a gathering storm.

 

“Nico! You look…. AMAZING!” Will couldn’t stop staring. From the slicked back hair under the hat, to the cheekbones, to the drape of the shirt, to the black suspenders accentuating broad shoulders and narrow hips, and the waxed worn leather of the laced Red Wing boots, Nico looked like he’d just finished a photoshoot for some retro- hip designer label.

Will’s proud look of awe faltered when Nico’s eyes flashed, looking him up and down swiftly.  
Jeans. 

The same faded Levis. 

And, a t-shirt. 

The same ‘Surf This’ t-shirt, Nico noted, that Will had pulled on after their swim that afternoon. 

He hadn’t even fucking changed his fucking t-shirt! 

Nico felt himself fuming. 

He felt utterly ridiculous, all the effort he’d taken to pull himself together, the mistaken old-world assumption that tonight was a special event. He didn’t dare show the stupid little flowers. He didn’t wince as he felt the pin jab as he enclosed them in his palm.

“And, you, Will,” Nico’s voice was sharp and dark as stygian iron, “look like shit. Ordinary. Everyday. Shit.”

Will stopped short, mouth dropping open. He glanced at himself. Was Nico upset about…. his clothes? Nico, whose entire wardrobe consisted of two pairs of well-worn black jeans, a few t-shirts, a fleece hoodie and some running shorts? Or, so Will had thought. He was speechless.

Hazel watched the Apollo sisters glance back and forth, but mostly she looked at their little floral sundresses. Capped sleeves, short skirts showing yards of shapely leg, espadrilles. They looked cute and summery. Hazel had wondered if her simple white frock wasn’t dressy enough for an evening event and now felt, comparatively, like she was wearing a wedding gown to a picnic. 

The sudden appearance of Frank, plaid and khaki, made everyone turn but did nothing to clear the air. Frank, on approach, started by smiling at his lovely girlfriend, then, his eyes narrowed slightly at the crestfallen expression on her face. He noted she was also holding her brother’s hand for dear life. Frank was pretty sure he’d missed something, but before anyone could speak, Nico enlightened the crowd, snapping, “and, no corsage.” Frank looked down at his empty hands. His eyes slid sideways to Will standing there dumfounded. 

Nico’s icy voice continued, “You shine your shoes, you tilt your hat, you bring flowers for your girl…” Hazel suddenly tore away from him, running. 

“Fuck!” Nico swore and glared at everyone in the general vicinity, and took off after his sister.

“What the hell?” Reyna had come up behind the little crowd. “Why are my underworld darlings running away from my party?” 

Everyone turned and crowded around the Praetor, talking at once:

“…dressed up…Will’s t-shirt…what the hell is a corsage…so pretty….all upset….” 

Reyna got the general drift. A 1940s vs. now culture clash. Poor Hazel and Nico. They’d both confided to Reyna how much they were looking forward to tonight. Lou Ellen and Cecil had joined the group. Reyna noticed Lou’s thoughtful look.

“What, Magic Girl?”

“I can fix this….” Lou said dreamily. “Yes, a little of this and that and a little mist…” Her tone sharpened. “I need Austin and five minutes. Will, if this works, I’ll need some ambrosia. Frank, for gods’ sake, find some pretty flowers. There’re at least six Demeter kids around here somewhere. Reyna, if I can commandeer a change of tone…” The rest of the plan was whispered and then the group scattered.

Nico caught up with Hazel and they watched the sun setting, leaning side by side. A tear slid down Hazel’s cheek and Nico pulled her close to him, arm circling her shoulder. “I hate not fitting in!” she sputtered. “I try and I try, but I never seem to get it quite right and end up looking like an idiot. And I figured, tonight… a dance is something I know about! A teenager from the 1940s, all we did was dance! I figured, I’ve got this! I figured, how could I get it wrong? Here’s how: too fancy, too prim, too high expectations of romantic etiquette, too out of touch, too much a dreamer….” She was ticking items off on her fingers as she talked. Nico kissed her hair. “Stop,” he murmured. They were both quiet. After a minute, Nico stepped away and faced Hazel. “Blue goes with white,” he said, pinning Will’s boutonniere above her heart. “We might be over-dressed with disappointing dates, but we’re by far the best looking people attending. And, we’re probably the only ones who really know how to dance.”

Hazel sniffled and smiled. Nico wiped her cheeks with his thumbs. 

“Will would look gorgeous in a paper bag,” she began, watching Nico’s face as they began to walk back to the pavilion. She saw his face tighten. He said curtly, “so, imagine him in a suit…”

The green was deserted and there was only eerie silence from the pavilion, silk panels obscuring the view to the inside. Hazel felt it a split second before they stepped to the marble threshold. She made Nico pause. “Mist…” she whispered, warily, hands out as if testing the air. But, before she could say another word, the silk curtains parted of their own accord and Nico and Hazel stood in shock.

Cocktail tables, fancy dress, polished dark hardwood – a 1940 dancehall from the dim, whirring strings of lights to the uniformed band, heavy on the brass and drums. Applause and cheers as they entered, and Reyna in a black satin sheath speaking through a microphone, “Ah, our guests of honour…. Show us how it’s done!”

The drums started, followed by the horns. Benny Goodman. Every kid in 1940 would’ve known what to do, the swing steps coming back to them as they went. The crowd cheered and whistled, joining in at the halfway point. Breathless by the end, Nico twirled Hazel through a final spin. Laughing and breathing heavily, they turned to see Frank, tux-clad without a scrap of plaid or khaki. He thrust an armful of long-stemmed yellow roses into Hazel’s arms, and Hazel cooed with delight. 

Nico let them drift away together. He glanced around. This was incredible. Lou looked a little peaky at a table over there. Ah, it was all coming clear. He went to head that way, but someone grabbed his hand. Nico stopped short and swallowed hard: his gorgeous Will made even more so in a three piece suit. He was speaking:

“For some reason, no hat, but I got the shined shoes, and the flower for my …boy.” He snapped the long stem off one of Hazel’s roses and tucked the blossom behind Nico’s left suspender strap. 

Nico gazed around at the gowns and updos and suits and dancing and crystal punch glasses, and then back Will. 

“It’s all fake….”

Will gave a noncommittal shake of his head, “Mist, sure, but as for fake…. Real is relative. Does it seem real?”

Nico’s eyes lingered on the unbuttoned collar at Will’s throat. “It seems very real,” he admitted. “Your idea?”

“Lou’s. But we all helped. …Are you still mad?”

Nico had been nodding but shifted to shaking his head no. Will was still holding his fingers.

Will, relieved, continued, “Yeah, she’s not exactly sure how long she can hold the illusion for. Maybe not very long.” He sounded sorry about that.

“We’ll have to take advantage,” Nico whispered, moving closer to press his lips to Will’s throat, kissing softly. Now that he had Will all buttoned up, he was dying to unbutton him.

“And, I’m pretty sure the magic stops the moment we step out of the pavilion,” Will added with a moan.

“Thing is about these 1940s dancehalls,” Nico murmured between kisses, “they always had these dark corners….”

Will laughed gently, “Weren’t you, like, 8 in 1940?”

Nico grinned. Truth. “Shhh,” he said shortly, kissing Will’s mouth. “I remember knowing stuff.” The band transitioned into a slow tune, and all around couples pressed together, swaying. 

“Dance with me first,” Will murmured.

They were already in each other’s arms, and they stepped carefully, moving together. They’d danced before. Apollo kids were never far from breaking into dance and Nico had moves. But this was the first time they’d danced like this. They lingered, slowly, slowly dancing themselves into a shadowy spot behind a pillar. While the music crooned and lilted, Nico managed to undo 5 or 6 buttons in 15 or 16 kisses. 

“This doesn’t seem very 1940…” Will breathed. 

“Hmmmm… (kiss) Like you said, (kiss) I was just a kid in 1940 (kiss). I didn’t learn all the rules…..” 

Will gasped as Nico licked a newly exposed nipple. They pressed together more tightly, suit pants not very secretive about arousal status. The music was loud enough to muffle any groans. 

Suddenly, in the blink of an eye, 1940 disappeared – horns, dim whirry light bulbs, crystal, punch, gowns and suits. Will yelped as his previously well-accommodated erection was instantly crammed into skinny jeans.

Awwws, reverberated around the pavilion. Clearly everyone found 1940 was a great place to party. Lou’s voice sounded exhausted as she cried out, “Sorry guys! All I got!” Thunderous applause broke out. 

Nico peeked around the pillar while Will adjusted and saw Lou looking a little green cramming ambrosia into her mouth. Nico turned back to Will. 

“Ready?”

Will was eyeing Nico’s shirt with interest. “I don’t know…. You’ve sold me on this unbuttoning thing…” He pulled Nico into him for a kiss and then turned suddenly so Nico’s back was against the pillar. Will slipped one button out its hole and darted his tongue to the exposed skin. Nico clutched the hem of Will’s offending t-shirt. 

“Let’s get out of here!”

Racing away, hand in hand, someone astutely observed, “they must’ve made up!” On his way by, Nico could just see Hazel and Frank behind a mound of yellow roses. 

*****  
20 YEARS LATER

“Yeah, they weren’t from the mist. Frank actually found some for me. He thought after all that, a corsage just wouldn’t cut it.” Hazel poured the last of the wine evenly between their glasses. The table in Nico and Will’s homey kitchen was littered with photos. “You guys ran off to have sex?” she added, referring to where Nico had left off recounting the story. 

Nico gave her an incredulous eyebrow raise as he swallowed his drink. “You really have to ask? We came back later. That’s when this was taken. End of the night.” He pointed to the photo: Nico, suspenders down, hair mussed and grinning; Will in Nico’s fedora, ‘Surf This’ t-shirt clearly visible; Hazel in white with yellow roses; Frank, back to khaki and plaid. 

Hazel and Nico were gazing at the photo, nostalgia washing over them when their husbands returned on scene. 

“What are we talking about?” Frank asked, looking over their shoulders as he uncorked the next bottle. 

“The kids are down, finally,” Will sighed as he pulled up a chair. Nico kissed his cheek. 

Hazel said, “That dance, you know. This picture, here.”

Frank grinned as he poured for everybody. “Oh yeah. Hazel still has those roses….”

“I do,” Hazel’s voice was warm with memories.

“Me too,” Will chimed.

Everyone looked at him. “What?” Nico didn’t know what he was talking about.

Will smiled at everyone’s expressions. “The little blue flowers with the pin. The boutonniere.”

Nico almost choked on his wine. “Seriously?”

Will nodded, “Yeah. Hazel gave it to me the next day. And I’ve always kept it. …You didn’t know?”

Nico sputtered, “Will! I’m pretty sure you never told me. Will! All through college? Medical school? Residency? We’ve moved from New York to Venice to Boston to Toronto and back to New York! We got married! We had kids! How did I not know you had that? I know everything about you!”

“Now you do,” Will kissed his husband’s disbelieving face.

There was a pause. Hazel and Frank shared a happy look. Will took a drink. Nico eyed the buttons on Will’s shirt. He broke the silence:

“Okay, drink up, everyone. I’m taking Will to bed.”

Hazel shook her head, laughing. “Oh no you don’t! You're not running off! You’re not sixteen anymore and we still have this whole bottle and half a box of photos to go through!"

“Ok,” Nico conceded. “After, than.”

Everyone laughed, but they all lifted their glasses and drank deeply. Will’s blue eyes gleamed at Nico over his glass.


End file.
